The most current version

I recently shared with a friend that I’d completed an intangible transition, and we concluded that these kinds of changes should be celebrated more. It reminded me of this piece published in the Are.na editorial that talks about their latest web-client, Sander:

It’s weird to talk about Sander because, although we’ve (literally) rewritten the entirety of the front-end of Are.na, there isn’t anything super flashy or obvious we can point to as a change. We are simply now the most current version of ourselves.

I continue to be surprised by how relevant pieces published by Are.na feel to me. They often touch on things that resonate with my beliefs about how to be and what to care about. The message I’m getting from this article is that spending time working on one’s inner workings is valuable, even if it feels extreme or somewhat indulgent. The story of transitioning from the old front-end to the new one is a strangely apt metaphor for inner transformation.

The last couple of years have been dominated by tending to my internal workings, and I haven’t felt much need to talk about it—at least not until now. When I think about my previous programming it feels similar to how Charles Broskoski describes the old front-end of Are.na, Ervell:

But for all it has done for us, we knew deep down that Ervell wasn’t built with the right foundation. The clue was that, if you used Are.na for a while (and if you’re sensitive like us), you’d notice that there is a kind of psychological cost that accrues while navigating through connections across channels. It felt heavy.

Twice this year, I’ve had friends tell me, “You haven’t changed at all.” In some ways, that’s true: my appearance hasn’t changed much, I still don’t care about partying, and I’m not progressing along the well-trodden life ladder (partnering, buying a house, etc.). But a part of me felt stung because I’m acutely aware of the effort that has gone into these invisible changes. To have it go mostly unnoticed makes me question the value of it, which is why the Are.na piece really hit home. I love my friends, and I’m not blaming them for how I feel. It’s more a reflection of a society that’s built on shaky foundations itself.

The article begins with a comparison to a performance piece by Kristin Lucas. In this performance, Lucas legally changed her name from “Kristin Sue Lucas” to “Kristin Sue Lucas” at a courthouse in California, claiming that doing so “would be like refreshing a page”.

Refreshing is not the same as starting from zero. A completely new self, in the context of the performance, would mean changing the name to an entirely different one. Refreshing is more like rebuilding through reorganizing and shedding based on accumulated experience—there’s continuity in it.

Apparently, Sander represents what Are.na was always meant to be—the version the team wishes they had built the first time. Isn’t that what most self-transformation stories are about? Journeying back to your authentic self?

What I meant by intangible transition is exactly this. It feels like I’ve hit the refresh button, and I’m now the most current version of myself.